Sixth Sense
by Two-Bits
Summary: ACK! Another time-travel story! But this one has a CATCH! NOT Mary-Sueish, I SWEAR! This is totally, completely, 100 percent ME! You'll find out about the title later.
1. Hello, Joseph

I _hate_ heat. When I get out of the house, I am SO moving somewhere cold. Like...New York!

Yes, I am a Broadway!geek. Bite me.

You name it, I am it: RENThead...Mizzy...._major_ Mizzy...Cats...dork? Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh...

Anyways, it's flippin' _September!_ It's s'posed to beCOLD! But, no. It's hot.

Any-hoo...Dear God, did I just say that? Just shoot me.

I'm walking—no, I'm _stalking_. Not anyone in particular (though I could think of quite a few candidates), just stalking around my neighborhood, like some crazed, one-girl gang, or something...

Why, you ask? Because, my child, I am suffering from the ultimate illness known to author-kind, even more than Mary-Sue disease! Yes, my pretties. I have...

...writer's block.

Yes, I, Two-Bits, who can normally dole out stories at the drop of a hat, am suffering from writer's block.

I was walking past Tinell's for the twenty-seventh time, when my life changed entirely.

_No_, I did _not_ fall in love.

It all started with these guys. Most of the people in my neighborhood went to Fishburn. School district, and all that? I did, too. But since then, I've changed a _ton_.

My hair is now dark red...it's shorter...

Okay, so maybe I haven't changed a _ton_, but enough so that people don't recognize me.

So, there are these guys, and I know one of them. I despise him with a passion, but he doesn't remember me.

Unfortunately, he'll talk to anything with a chest.

"What's up?" he greeted. I couldn't resist.

"Hey, _Joseph_," I said, nodding. He was baffled.

"How do you know my name?" he demanded, baffled. See?

"It pays to know people in this neighborhood," I replied, slyly, trying not to burst out laughing. Joseph and his friends raised their eyebrows at me, like I was from Mars.

Well...I _could_ be...

"Then who am I?" one of the other guys asked. Damn. I was busted.

I opened my mouth to make some snide comment I hadn't really thought through, but I froze up.

Not out of fear, or embarrassment, or whatever. I just froze. I couldn't move an inch. I couldn't even twitch my little finger.

_What on earth is happening to me?_ I found myself thinking.

I had completely lost control of my own body.

The silence was strange. I could hear murmurings from Joseph and his friends, but my eyes told me they were shouting. It was like there was a wall separating me from the rest of the world.

Then my vision blackened, and it was as if someone released their hold on me. My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground.

AHA! Cliffhanger...Okay, this is YET ANOTHER time-travel story, but I've been rereading Sapphy's story, and it made me wanna do a time-travel story. I SWEAR I haven't been "inspired," if you catch my drift. This is not a 'trapped in someone's body' kinda' thing. Cross my heart.

Read and review!


	2. Les Gasp

The voice of reason in my head told me what I should be feeling.

My knees _should_ be warm. They _should_ be pressed against cement. They _should_ be scraped and stinging.

But my knees had a different story.

They were cold. Not chilly, but icy cold. And wet. The knees of my jeans were soaked. I reached out and my fingers brushed against the ground.

Snow.

The hell...? What's going on? _Snow?_ In _September?!_ We barely get snow in January!

I ran my fingers over myself, checking for injuries. Converse shoes...slightly torn jeans...a bruise on my thigh...hooded, zip-up sweater around my waist (which I quickly pulled on)...tee shirt...cut lip...black eye...

Then something clicked. It was so obvious that I can't believe I didn't realize it before.

I couldn't see.

More importantly, I couldn't _hear_. Now, maybe most people would rather see than hear, but not me. My life revolves around hearing: music, books-on-tape...That sort of thing.

I couldn't smell, either, but that wasn't huge. I only have about ten percent of my sense of smell, anyway.

For all I know, I couldn't speak, either.

I stood up, shakily, wondering why my senses were gone, except for touch. But as I was thinking these things, my hearing began coming back, first faint, then progressively louder, until it was, ironically enough, almost deafening.

Thoroughly confused, I felt around, looking for a wall, or something, but my hands met nothing. I could hear the sounds of a fairly busy city around me. Not at all like home.

Where am I? I was starting to get panicky. I could hear someone yelling, and I almost clapped my hands over my ears.

"LOOK OUT!" I jumped and spun around, trying to find the source of the noise. My mind was giving me warnings; I could hear a steady, quick-paced beat, which sounded familiar...

A memory stirred. Every single horse race I had ever seen rose before my mind. Seabiscut...Ready to Run...Hidalgo...that movie about the little girl who joined that race that I can't remember the title of...

It was the sound of a horse's hooves pounding steadily against the paved street, only slightly muffled by the snow. I froze, not sure where to go. Any step could mean certain death.

"MOVE!" The voice was much closer, now, and then someone slammed into me.

I went crashing to the ground, skidding painfully across the ground, someone clumsily on top of me, just as a cart raced by, pulled by a horse, seemingly out of control.

That could have been _so_ Les Miserables.

"Geez, girly! What's the matter with you?" I opened my mouth, but no words came out. So, I _can't_ talk.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" I nodded, furiously. This mute thing was getting old, _fast_.

"Can you _talk?_" I shook my head. "Oh. Well, then...uh...do you have a place to stay?" Again, I shook my head. Wherever I am, it's _not_ home. "Well, come with me. Jack can fix you up with a place to sleep." This stranger took my hand and began leading me somewhere, all the while remaining in his half of a mutual silence.

"My name's Dutchy, by the way," he said, breaking the awkward silence. Aww...a little Dutch boy...Wait. Why is my head screaming at me? Dutchy. Dutchy. Dutchy. Dutchy. Dutchy!

DUTCHY!

Les GASP! NEWSIES!

Okay, brathe. Yeah, remember breathing? It's good for your heart! Like...Cheerios...or something...

"OW!" Dutchy shook me off. In my moment of spazzing, I had squeezed his hand within an inch of its life. I mentally apologized, but, obviously, he can't read my mind, and even if he could, he'd go into shock before he even got near the apology.

After a moment, he hesitantly took my hand and rested it in the crook of his elbow. I grinned, idiotically. People are just so courteous.

"Here we are," Dutchy announced. "Home, sweet home." I looked up, subconsciously, and then remembered that I can't see.

Damn...

"Hey, Kloppman! I found this girl in the street!" Dutchy yelled. I winced. _Don't. Yell..._"I think there's something wrong with her," Dutchy continued.

"What's the matter with her?" a new voice asked.

"I dunno, Specs. She hasn't said a word, and I don't think she can see."

Specs...Dutchy...Sputchy! ACK! No slash! This is REAL life!

Great. It's gonna be hell trying to suppress my inner slasher.

"Looks like she got into a fight," Specs said. Someone touched my black eye, and I flinched. "How many fingers am I holding up?" I shrugged. "Can you count?" I bristled, slightly, and nodded. "Can you see my fingers at all?" I shook my head. Is it really that hard to contemplate the prospect of being BLIND?!

"Are you blind?" Dutchy asked. _There_ you go...I nodded.

"You said she can't speak?" I presume Dutchy nodded. "Poor girl."

"Yeah. So, Kloppman, can she stay here?"

"How will she earn her keep?"

Silence.

He's good.

"She can sell!" Dutchy.

"Sutchy?" Specs.

"Yeah?" Dutchy.

"She's blind." Specs.

"Yeah...?" Dutchy.

"She can't see the headlines, you dolt!" Kloppman.

"Oh. Well, she can pity sell!" Dutchy.

"I suppose so." Specsy. "Lets go introduce her to the fellas." Someone took hold of my hand and led me up the stairs.

"Hey, Specs! Who's the girl?" someone called. My stomach twisted.

"Heya', Racetrack. Dutchy found her when he was coming home."

"What's her name?"

Silence.

Ah...Here's where things get tricky...

"That's a good question. See, she's blind, and mute, so I don't know."

"Well, we gotta call her _something_!" An unrecognizable voice. A little kid's voice. Hmmm...

I began to search my pockets for...Damn. I felt a bit, found Specs, and then took a deep breath, and dived in.

"Hey! What the...?" Specs yelped. I ignored him, and pulled my hand out of his pocket. I felt the coins with my fingers until...AHA! I held it up for all to see.

Here comes the charades.

"Money?" No.

"Coin?" No.

"Nickel?" No!

"That's not a nickel, Race." DUH! "It's a quarter." YES!

I started spazzing _just_ slightly. I was nodding my head like crazy.

"Specs, why is she touching her nose?"

"It means that 'quarter' has something to do with her name."

"Quarter?" No.

"Twenty-five?" No!

"Two-Bits?" YES!

"Way to go, Skitts!" Don't. Flip...Skittery...Mmm...

"Two-Bits. Okay, well, we all need to chip in to pay for her board tonight. She'll start selling tomorrow."

"Who's she gonna sell with?" I'll sell with Race!

"I figure she can sell with Boomerang, you know, being a girl, and all." Damn.

"What about me?"

"Boomer!"

"Hey, babe." Whoa. Who said that? Was it _Race?_

"Hey, Blink." Oh. Okay. She can live. "Who's this?" An elbow propped up on my shoulder.

"This is Two-Bits. Dutchy found her." Kid Blink. I could almost _feel_ Boomer's jealous eyes boring through me. Uh-oh.

I shrugged him off, and felt the glare weaken...barely.

"Yeah, anways, who sold well today?"

"I did," Jack boasted. I rolled my eyes. "I could cough up two pennies." I almost laughed. I would be rich if I ad all those pennies from home with me.

"I can put in a penny," Mush said.

"So can I," Dutchy chirped.

"I can, too. So, that's her board tonight. Boomer can take her selling tomorrow."

"What?" Boomer burst.

"What's the matter?" Jack demanded.

"I'm not going to drag her around town! I have a hard job selling as it is! I'm not going to drag along some street rat!"

Silence.

_Somebody_ woke up on the wrong side of the bunk.

"Boomer, what's the matter with you?" Kid demanded. "You can say she's your blind and mute cousin, and you family is trying to raise money to teach her brail, or something!"

"Well, then she can sell with _you!_" Boomer replied, vehemently.

"FINE!" Kid snapped back.

Shit. I need to do something. Crossing my fingers for luck, I reached out in the opposite direction of Kid, and grabbed an arm.

"Two-Bits, what's up?" I began jabbing my finger at Newsie A. "You wanna sell with him?" I nodded, vigorously.

"Okay. Looks like Two-Bits is selling with Jack."

* * *

Hee hee! Wouldn't that be just my luck? Anyways, review!

Shoutouts!

Buttons14--YAY! Mizzies forever! Love ya, hon.

My Dog Ate My Penname--Hee hee! Love your penname! Avenue Q! I haven't seen that one. Anyways, I'll be updating this one regularly (for once) because I really, REALLY like this!

TheAngryPrincess13--I'm so sorry Dazed and Confused got taken down!

koodles4you--Yeah, sometimes my invisible friend is there! His name is John Travolta, the miniature-pink-flying-elephant eater! Don't ask.


	3. Just My Luck

Why me? Why do I always get stuck with the last person I want to me stuck with?

I was walking to the distribution apparatus, my hand in the crook of Jack's elbow, listening to him give me the four-one-one in being a newsie.

Like I haven't memorized it already.

"Headlines don't sell papes. _Newsies_ sell papes," Jack lectured to me. I rolled my eyes.

I imagined how the conversation would go if I could talk.

Me: _Must _we go through with this?

Jack: What? You're not enjoying this? You're not ready to swoon at my feet?

Me: …no, not really.

Jack: …

Me: Do most people?

Jack: Well…I mean, _some_ probably do…

Me: coughDavvycough

Jack: What was that?

Me: Nothing.

But, of course, since I can't talk, my sarcasm is wasted. It's frustrating.

So, instead of shutting him up with my all-powerful tongue of doom—

No, not like _that_, you sick-minded fiends.

—I had to listen to him babble. Tuning out…now!

Hmmm…_She will be loved…She will be loved…_I love that song…That makes me think of Tyler and Taylor. Sad…

Okay, need something happier, lest I be in a pissy mood for the rest of the day. Um…_I've become so numb. I can't feel you there. Become so tired. So much more aware._

Ah…Liking Park is good…_It's like I'm paranoid, looking over my back. It's like a whirlwind inside of my head. It's like I can't stop what I'm feeling within. It's like a face inside is right beneath my skin._

Hey…Didn't I write a songfic to that song? Ah, well. Let's see…What's another fun song?

_In the heart of little old New York, you'll find a thoroughfare…It's the part of little old New York that runs into Times Square…A crazy quilt that Wallstreet Jack built…If you've got a little time to spare, I want to take you there…_

_Turn on channel 7 at a quarter to eight, you see the same damn thing it's just a different day, and no one really knows why this is happening, but it's happening. People always saying this is part of the plan, that God's got everybody in his hands and I can only hope that God is listening. Is he listening? You come into this world…And we are all the same…And in that moment there's no one to blame…But the world is black…And hearts are cold…And there's no hope…That's what we're told…And we can't go back! It won't be the same. Forever changed…by the things we did…_

Sad how all my "happy" songs are really depressing. But really, I mean, the REAL happy songs are just bloody annoying!

Whoa. British moment.

Let's see…What's the happiest song that I actually like? OH!

_I just wanna live! Don't really care about the things that they say! Don't really care about what happens to me! I just wanna live! Just wanna live…Just wanna live…Just wanna_—

"Two-Bits?"

WHAT?!

"We're here." Oh. Fine…Just interrupt my one-girl concert, why don't ya? Jack led me to the line, I presume, and I could feel myself brushing against a few people. Newsboys, actually. I planted my feet, firmly, and yanked back.

"What the—" Jack stopped, which is a good thing, 'cause I was about to fall over, as I have no body strength whatsoever. "What's the matter?" I shook my head and dragged him in the opposite direction, towards the end of the line, running my fingers along the shoulders of the newsboys until the felt air.

"What's your problem? Let's get our papes and go!" I shook my head and folded my arms over my chest.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not all righteous, or whatever. I'm not putting on a holier-than-thou attitude, or anything, but it seriously pisses me off when someone cuts me in line, and I don't intend to sink to their level.

"Alright, fine. _You_ can wait here, but I ain't waitin' for you!" He left, I assumed. I grinned, rather triumphantly to myself, then realized that I had no way of knowing if the line was moving. Praying that I wasn't behind Boomerang, I reached forward and put a tentative hand on the shoulder in front of me.

"What?" Thank. God. It was Skittery. "Oh, hey Two-Bits." I smiled at him. "Didn't wanna skip with Jack?" I rolled my eyes and shook my head, in a way that would convey to him that I don't think very highly of their fearless leader. Skittery laughed. "Yeah, I know. Well, I suppose you can sell with me. Since you don't talk. I think I'd go insane selling one more day with Slider and Tumbler. Those two talk a mile a minute!"

I was a bit surprised, actually. This was the most I'd heard Skittery ever say. Well, okay, so I'd only ever heard him say what he says in the movies, and 'Two-Bits.' I laughed, remembering the charades.

Anyway, I kept my hand on Skittery's shoulder and followed him as the line moved up. I passed Skittery some money, which Jack lent me, and he bought my papers.

"Let's see…Anything good today?" Skittery asked, opening his paper. I gave him a look that said, 'Like I can tell.' "Oh, right. Okay, well, I guess we'll just have to play our customers." He removed his hand from my arm, and I didn't move, wondering where he's gone. Then he rubbed gritty fingers across my cheeks. Gritty, _cold_ fingers. I jumped, a bit. "Calm down! If you're going to be a poor, pathetic, blind girl, you've gotta at least have some dirt on you!" I shivered, and pulled on my sweater, zipping it up. Now I wouldn't look _quite_ so odd. They don't have much fishnet around here.

It was fun experiencing selling for the first time, especially since we had an angle. Some were pretty thickheaded and passionate.

"Extra! Extra!" Skittery called, taking my arm once more. He handed me my papers, and I held one out, blindly, trying to look pathetic. "Excuse me, sir. Spare a penny?"

"What's wrong with her?" grunted an older man. Skittery placed a hand on my shoulder, and sniffled, a little bit. I widened my eyes, trying to look innocent.

"This here is my sister, sir. She's blind, has been since she was born. My pa died, and my ma don't have a job. We're trying to get money so we can afford to teach her Braille. She don't speak, neither."

"Poor thing," said a woman voice. "Give them some money, Charles," she ordered. "Please take this. I hope your mother can find a job, and you can teach her Braille!" she said.

"Thank you, ma'am! Have a good day!" Skittery said, cheerfully. "Two-Bits, this might actually work! They gave us a dollar! They must be pretty rich. Come on!"

Others were not so passionate…

"Hey! Watch where you're going, you mangy whore!" shouted a younger, gruff, angry man. I backed away. I had accidentally hit him, since I'm blind, and all. Skittery pulled me back a little, stepping up.

"Don't you call her that! My sister's blind and mute, sir! She couldn't see three millimeters in front of her, much less see you!"

"Well, the blind shouldn't be wanderin' around! Lock 'em up, I say!" I glowered at him. This man was this close to getting kicked. Really hard. Where it hurts.

"Come on, Bits. Let's get out of here. It's almost one, anyways. The boys should be at Tibby's by now." Glaring at the direction where I thought the man had gone, and fuming, silently, I allowed Skittery to lead me to the diner.

Besides, I was hungry.

YAY! Food! Man, now I'm hungry. Anyways, I promise the next chapter will come soon. i had,like, seven chapters written out, but, unfortunately, they're at home, and I'm at my grandma's place for the holidays! Review!

Shoutouts!

Faerie-Meyers-Parker: Heya! Nice name! I hve a feeling I can guess about it! :) Anyways, thanks for reviewing! I'm sorry yours got killed!

Erin Go Bragh: Okay, deep breaths...deeeeep breaths...Ha ha. It's okay, really. Thanks for reviewing!

koodles4you: Your penname makes me giggle...Anyways, I love Cheerios too! Honey Nut, anyway! Thanks for reviewing!

TheAngryPrincess13: Thanks!

My Dog Ate My Penname: Lol...Killer poodles...Thanks! Absolutely right! Lovely, lovely, lovely newsies make everything better!


	4. Perhaps She Has The Evil Eye

Selling with Skittery was quite the relief.

The fact that I was blind, mute, and just randomly fell through time and into 1899, only to be oh-so-conveniently found by Dutchy, therefore getting board at the Lodging House meant a night of chatter.

Weirdly dressed blind and mute girls don't just randomly hang out in alleyways.

Since I was new, a lot of people would randomly talk to me, asking me yes-or-no questions. I would nod, or shake my head in answer, but the questions never ceased, and, since I'm mute, I couldn't snap at them and tell them to shut the hell up.

Of course, that could be a good thing, since I'm sure my sarcastic mouth wouldn't be too well appreciated.

Then there were people who talked to me because they felt sorry for me, and didn't want to make me feel ignored, even though I made for bad company because I can't talk. But, of course, I wouldn't talk anyways, but that's beside the point.

Yes, I am an introvert, so, as I said before, selling with Skittery was a relief. We managed to sell about half of our--well, really, they're his--papers by lunchtime, and he promised to give me half, since I had a lot to do with his success.

I groaned, inwardly, as we headed for Tibby's.

Tibby's. I wasn't exactly enthralled at the prospect of switching between Twenty Questions and Try-And-Fail-To-Ignore-The-Firey-Glares-You-Can-Friggin-Feel-Are-Being-Sent-Your-Way-Every-Time-Kid-Blink-Talks-To-You, which seems to be the favorite game of Boomerang.

But, what was I to do? I wasn't exactly in the position to go wandering around New York on my own.

_On my own, pretending he's beside me...All alone, I walk with him till morning...Without him, I feel his arms around me. And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me._

Ah...I wasn't kidding when I said I was a major Mizzy.

_But I know it's only in my mind...That I'm talking to myself and not to him...And although I know that he is blind, still I say there's a way for us. I love him, but everyday I'm learning all my life, I've only been pretending!_

"Hey, Skittery!" called a few voices.

What, are we there already?

"You want something to eat?" Skittery asked, leading me over to a table. I shook my head. I wasn't the least bit hungry. I rarely am. I don't live off a great amount of food normally, so that, at least won't be a problem.

"Heya', Two-Bits. How was selling today?" Kid Blink asked, from the other side of me. I winced, and felt Boomer's eyes burning into mine. I shrugged, as if to say, 'Not as great as you think,' and at the same time convey to him that maybe he should shut up so his girlfriend would stop glaring frggin' _swords_ at me.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen.

Whilst most people "glare daggers," as the phrase goes, Boomerang was glaring swords. Thank God that looks can't kill.

Maybe she has the Evil Eye...

I read about that, once. It's in my book, The Sorcerer's Companion. Yes, I am also a Harry Potter nut. A Pothead, if you will. Anyways, this book is all the stuff in the Harry Potter books that J. K. Rowling didn't make up off the top of her head. People who possess the Evil Eye can pretty much kill you as soon as look at you. Apparently, children and animals are especially susceptible to the Evil Eye, and since I'm practically a child, anyways (though my mom says I'm way more mature than my friends), and since I don't have an Eye of Horus amulet handy, I'm feelin' the hate.

Then again, my friends all act like five-year-olds...

_No_, before you go there, I do _not_ have ADD. However, my sister and my mom do, so...

It's rather unfair, really, but Kid is a total flirt. If I were dating him, I wouldn't exactly trust him, either. But still, that doesn't mean I have to hate me.

"You _sure_ you don't want anything to eat?" Skittery asked me. I nodded. And then, of course, my stomach growls.

"I think she's lying," Kid laughed. "Get a sandwich or somethin'," Kid insisted. I shook my head. I didn't want a sandwich. I was hungry, but I didn't want to eat. Hard to explain.

"I'll pay for it," Kid offered.

NO! The last thing I need is to owe some other guys money, AND be in debt to the overly flirtatious guy who's got a jealous girlfriend.

"Maybe she's anorexic!" Specs said, suddenly. I looked in his direction, but, obviously, I couldn't see him. "That's really bad! If she is, we have to make her eat! Anorexia can be deadly!" Specs said, sounding all-knowing, just as I expected he would. I rolled my eyes.

"You could get an apple. They're only two cents." I sighed, then nodded. _If it'll make you bloomin' happy..._Anorexia. Psh. I love too many different kinds of food to be anorexic.

Skittery ordered an apple for me, and I felt it over. it was smooth, and only had one little mushy spot. Heh heh...Mushy spot...Mush...Spot...MushSpot! Hey, I don't think I've read one of those...Maybe I'll have to write one...

No slash! Bad girl, bad. Down inner slasher!

...down, OUTER slasher!

_Hey! No slashin', 'cause it ain't the way!_

Sigh. As much as I love The Clash, I have to disagree on that one.

Anyway, there weren't any holes or anything, (don't wanna be eating worms!) so I took a bite. Thank _God_ I got those damn braces off. I would've had to freaking strangle somebody if I wound up in 1899 with braces. Not to mention they'd be hard to explain. Do they even _have_ braces in 1899?

Doubt it, but I don't have a clue.

I ate my apple and listened to Kid babble about the weather, or something like that, before he and Boomer headed off to finish selling. And who should take his seat but none other than the incredibly sexy Italian, Sir Racetrack Higgins.

Somebody pinch me.

OW!

Somebody pinched me! I snapped my head in the direction of the...erm...pinch...and heard Race chuckle, oh-so-sexily.

"Sorry, but you were zoning out," he laughed. "How do you like being a newsie?" I shrugged. "Was that a _It's brilliant, I love it_ shrug, or was that a _It bites_ shrug?"

It was a, _It's positively wonderful, because I'm surrounded by gorgeous babes, even though I am constantly in fear of running into a brick wall if somebody doesn't steer me out of the way, and I can't even SEE the gorgeous babes, not to mention the jealous newsgirl who possesses the Evil Eye and uses it frequently on me_, shrug, but, obviously, I can't tell him that, and even if I could, I wouldn't. I may be dim at times, but I'm not THAT stupid.

I held up two fingers. Selling really does suck. Facts of life. It's not easy to be a newsie.

"Ah, well, you'll get used to it. Selling was pretty hard for me my first time." Oh, I'm sure, considering you're a sexy Italian boy who can melt the heart of anyone with just one lopsided grin that I am so longing to see, and yet I am deprived of that privilege.

Damn time traveling.

They day continued rather uneventfully, and after a while, Skittery was leading me home. They gave me a bunk in the corner, which I shared with Tumbler, because he's the only one small enough to share a bed with. Well, save for Itey and Snitch.

Don't go there...Don't go there...

ANYWAYS, I'm sharing with him, because the bunks are full up, and I'm not about to hop into bed with Mush.

Although that does sound promising.

...Definitely didn't just think that...

Yeah, anyways, Tumbler fell asleep almost instantly, but I stayed up. I am an insomniac, and the fact that I had been thrown through time into a word I'd only ever dreamed of visiting doesn't exactly help my cause. Last night, I'd been too tired to think things over, but tonight was different. I'd had my rest. Now it was time to think.

I skipped the question of how I got here. Time travel is just way too complicated to get my mouth around--

...get your bloomin' head out of the bloody GUTTER!

--so I decided it was just an act of God, and that God wanted me to learn something from this experience. Instead, I went straight to question that was _really_ burning me.

Why was I blind and mute? Hey, speakings not even a sense…Ah, well…I suppose my voicebox died or something…

I thought back to yesterday, when I'd landed in the alley. I replayed the scene in my head. I knew there was something I was overlooking, but I couldn't--

AHA!

Yesterday, when I was blacking out, I lost all my senses. The fact had slipped my mind because of the day's antics. But that didn't explain why I was still blind and mute.

I came to the conclusion that time traveling messes up your senses, but you regain them. I had lost all five senses, but the less complex--hearing, tasting, touching, smelling--they came back almost immediately. Seeing and speaking, however, were much more complicated. I could only hope that my theory was right, and that my last two senses would come back soon enough.

Preferably sight, if you catch my drift.

Wow...I'm on a roll, ain't I? Okay, from now on, I solemnly swear that as I write chapters, the INSTANT I finish them, I willpost them. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to never watch newsies again.

Shoutout!

koodles4you: Well, it's funny...Heh heh...I have British moments all the time. i'll randomly start talking (or even thinking) in a British accent. It's great. My mum (there I go again!) gets irritated when I go around saying "bloody" and crap like that.  



	5. HALLEFREAKINLUJAH!

"TWO-BITS, WAKE UP!"

I shot up in bed, immediately alert. My, GOD! What the hell happened?! Glancing around, frantically, I heard a slight chuckle.

"Don't worry," Kloppman said," it's just me." I frowned at him and gave him an indignant glare but he said nothing.

It had been about a week since I decided that Boomerang does, in fact, possess the Evil Eye. And by that time I had gotten over the joys of going back in time and hanging out with the gods of the newsboys, and the immense annoyance of being blind and mute were beginning to sink in.

Curse the darkness.

Whenever people asked me what my greatest fear was, I'd reply, "What I can't see." If I was in water or something, and I couldn't see the bottom, I was so paranoid that something was going to attack me, and I'd be none the wiser. And now…Now I'm blind. Completely, and totally without sight. Can you imagine? Well, no, you probably can't. People would also ask what I would miss the least if I were to lose speaking, seeing, or hearing. I'd always tell them sight, because my life revolves around music.

But there's the problem about how I strive to be independent. A slight pang of annoyance shoots through me when some guy holds the door open for me, or offers to carry my bag, or whatever. They're just trying to prove that they're gentlemanly, or whatever, but it ticks me off. I always snap at them.

Now I have to walk around, my hand clamped firmly to someone's wrist, so I don't run into anyone, or anything.

Perhaps this is what I'm supposed to learn? That it's okay to be a little dependent?...And that I need to hold my tongue?

I smiled, inwardly, at that thought, and then rolled out of bed. Blindly, I ran my fingers along the bedpost, then walked forward, reaching for the sinks. "C'mere, Bits," someone muttered, and led me to the sink on which sat a spare toothbrush they had given me. I smiled, gratefully, mildly wondering which gorgeous newsboy this was, and began to brush my teeth.

"Who're you selling with today?" I shrugged. "Well, you want to sell with me?" I spat, then shrugged again. "Wow, aren't we talkative." I rolled my eyes. "Oh, right. You _can't_ talk." Atta' boy... "Well, anyway, come sell with me. We'll go to the harbor." Aha! It's Mush! I nodded, trying not to grin, stupidly. Mush is really cute. And muscley...Mmm...

"Let's go while they still got some left," Mush said, leading me toward the distribution apparatus. "Hey, Kid! Two-Bits is selling with us today!" Oh. No.

"Says who?" came the expected, ever-so-evil voice of Boomerang. I sighed. Fucktastic. Heh heh...Thank you, Poison Candy Sprinkles!

"Um, says me, I suppose," Mush said, hesitantly. Obviously he hadn't noticed the love-hate relationship between myself and Boomerang, minus the 'love,' of course. Boomerang gave a sufferable sigh, and began walking.

"Boomer, what is your problem?" I heard Kid Blink mutter. Mush slowed his pace, considerably.

"What is my _problem?_ My problem is that she shows up out of nowhere, blind, mute, and deaf, and you're hanging all over her!"

"He hangs all over the guys, too! Are you going to accuse him of being gay?"

Silence.

Did I say that out loud?

"Bits, you just..._talked_," Mush said, sounding shocked. I was, too.

"I can talk?" I gaped. "I can talk! Halle-freakin'-lujah! I did a little happy dance. "Well, now that I can talk, I think I shall speak what's been going through my head for the past two weeks," I announced, lavishly. "Boomerang, there's some things you need to understand about your boyfriend if you're going to have a good relationship. Kid is a touchy-feely kind of guy. He hangs over everyone. Just because he hangs over me, and just because I'm a girl, means nothing. Face it," I said with a wry grin, "I'm not exactly a beauty, here, eh? So, now that we've established that Kid subconsciously 'flirts,'" I said, holding up my fingers in quotation marks, "let it also be established that I have no interest in him whatsoever as a boyfriend, lover, eloper, whatever you want to call it. Trust me. I'm sure you understand me when I say there are other fish in the Lodging House." I grinned, slightly. "And now I am begging--" I sunk to my knees and clasped my hands. "--begging for your alliance, that I may not go insane from being around guys twenty-four-seven!"

There was more silence.

"I think I liked her better when she was mute," Boomerang grumbled, but I _swear_ I heard her smiling. My work done, it was time to make good use of my newly renewed (go figure) vocal chords.

"In the heart of little old New York, you'll find a thoroughfare...It's the part of little old New York that runs into Times Square...A crazy quilt that Wallstreet Jack built...If you've got a little time to spare, I want to take you therrrreeee!!!" I skipped around a bit, tapping my feet.

"Come and meet..." Tap. Tap. "...those dancin' feet!" Tap. Tap. Taptap. "On the avenue I'm takin' ya to..." Dramatic pause. "Fourty....Second...Streeetttt!"

New song!

"I'm young and healthy! And you've got charrrrmmmmsss! It would really be a sin not to have you in my arms!" I serenaded Mush. "I'm young and healthy! And so are yoooouuu! When the moon is in the sky, tell me what am I to do? If I could hate ya, I'd keep away. But that ain't my nature! I'm full of Vitamin A, say!"

Someone handed me a coin. SWEET!

"We're in the money! We're in the money! We got a lot of what it takes to get along! We're in the money! The sky's a-sunny! Old Man Depression you are through! You've done us wrong! We never see headline, not a breadline today! And when we meet the landlord we can look that guy right in the eye!

New Broadway!

"There's a grief that can't be spoken....There's a pain goes on and o-on...Empty chairs at empty tables...Now my friends are dead and gone..." I sang, mournfully. "Here they talked of revolution...Here it was they lit the fla-ame...Here they sang about tomorrow...But tomorrow...never came..."

"Red! The blood of angry men! Black! The dark of ages past! Red! A world about to dawn! Black! A night that ends at last!"

"How strange...This feeling that my life's begun at last...This change...Can people really fall in love so fast? What's the matter with you, Cosette? Have you been too much on your own? So many things unclear...So many things unknown...In my life there are so many questions and answers that somehow seem wrong...In my life there are times when I catch in the silence a sigh of a faraway song...And it sings of a world that I long to see...Out of reach...Just a whisper away, waiting for me...Does he know I'm alive, do I know if he's real? Did he see what I saw, does he feel what I feel? In my life...I'm no longer alone now the love of my life is so near...Find me now...Find me hear..."

"On my own pretending he's beside me...All alone...I walk with him till morning...Without him, I feel his arms around me. And all when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me."

"Come on, dearie, why all the fuss? You're no grander than the rest of us. Life has dropped at the bottom of the heap. Join your sisters, make money in your sleep. That's right, dearie, let him have the lot. That's right, dearie. Show him what you've got...Old men, young men, take 'em as they come! Harbor rats and alley cats and every kind of scum. Poor memn, rich men, leaders of the land. See them with their trousers off, they're never quite as grand. All it takes is money in your hand!"

"TWO-BITS, SHUT UP!" Boomerang, Mush, and Kid Blink roared. I pouted, slightly, and fell silent.

"Bits, you're driving away customers. They don't appreciate songs about whores," Mush said, kindly.

"And there are creepy old men giving you funny looks," Boomerang added. I shuddered.

Three showtunes-less hours later, Kid said, "Come on. It's the end of the day. Let's go home." I couldn't resist. He said the magic words...

"At the end of the day you're another day older! And that's all you can say for the life of the poor! It's a struggle, it's a war, and there's nothing that anyone's giving! One more day standing about, what is it for? One day less to be living!"

"TWO-BITS, SHUT UP!"

Soon, I know. But I couldn't last another day without speaking!

Shoutouts!

Nosilla: I'm writing as fast as I can! Scout's honor!

koodles4you: Yeah, I'm going to emphasize the fact that she's blind, now that she can talk.

Dreamless-Mermaid: Hey, thanks babe! We'll see...

BoomerRang: Hardcore jerk no more! YAY! Wow, I feel so...blessed that you decided to go easy on me. Can you hear my sarcasm?

HAZZAGRIFF: YAY! Heh heh...I love bloomin'...


	6. You Suck

Wow, chapter six of Sixth Sense. I should probably do something special. Hmmm...

Roses are red

Violets are blue

You may not know this

But I love you.

Without my fans

Who read to the end

I'd be really boring

And you'd be snoring.

So put up with my

Period-between-updating time

And then we'll all be happy!

Haha, crap, I know. But whatever.

Shoutouts!

Nosilla: YAY! Not for a LOOOONNNGGG time. I've got this thing planned, but I have to be blind, and it's not going to happen for a while, so...

HAZZAGRIFF: I know, isn't it great?

hpcrazy: I'm having so much fun with this. YAY!

koodles4you: Wow, thanks! I love this story so much!

Dreamless-Mermaid: I know, it should prove to be VERY interesting...Muahahahahahaha...

* * *

"Look who opened her mouth," Boomerang said, unenthusiastically, pushing open the door to Tibby's with a slight jingle.

"Who?" Dutchy asked, and judging by his muffled words, he said it around food of some sort.

"Me!" I said, cheerfully. He started coughing. "Hey, don't kill yourself, Dutchster," I added, laughing.

"She _talks?_" Jack asked, incredulously. I rolled my eyes.

"What, did you think I was blind and mute my whole life?"

"Yes," Specs said, simply. There was silence.

"Oh. Well, I wasn't. Now gimme food, 'cause I'm hungry," I said, reaching into my pocket. "How much does a sandwich cost?"

"Fifteen cents. Hey, Joe! Get this girl a sandwich, will you?" Race said. I felt the coins in my hand, and picked out a dime and a nickel.

"Thanks," I said, as someone took the money out of my hands. A few minutes later, a sandwich was placed in front of me. Eagerly, I began to eat, humming to myself.

"What're you singing?" Snitch asked. I swallowed.

"A song," I said, evasively.

"_What_ song?" Snitch asked. I grinned.

"A song I wrote." I grinned, knowing I was annoying him.

"You write songs?" Jack asked, sounding interested. I nodded.

"I play the guitar, too."

"Well, are you any _good?_" Race demanded. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Well, let's hear you! Go on, sing us something!" Jack encouraged. I shook my head.

"No way!"

"You were singing four minutes ago, and you wouldn't shut up!" Kid Blink argued, irritably. I rolled my eyes.

"That's different. You didn't _ask_ me to," I said.

"I hear that," Boomer muttered.

"Shut _up_, Boomer," I replied, automatically, as if I had said it a thousand times.

"Maybe we could get you a job at Medda's," Davvy said, thoughtfully.

"Over my dead and brutally beaten body," I replied.

"Why not? I mean, you're good!" Mush exclaimed. I shook my head.

"Not good enough to be in a Vaudeville show!" _Nor is Medda, for that matter._ "Besides, I'm not going to turn this into a clichéd Mary-Sue. No one will want to read it!" I said, matter-of-factly. There was more silence, and I knew they were all staring at me.

"What the _heck_ are you talking about?" Race asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind. Anybody know where I can get a notebook?" I asked.

"Yeah, I do. There's a shop right by the statue of Horace Greeley," Specs said.

"How much will it cost?" I asked, reaching into my pocket and counting up my money, feeling the edges of the coins for identification. I had twenty cents left, minus board tonight, that made fifteen.

"I dunno. Maybe four bits," he replied. I frowned. Damn. My fingers were _itching_ to write, but I didn't hae enough. The fact that I positively _sucked_ at selling today didn't help my cause, or my mood. I would have to make due with extra papers. I had plenty of those.

I sighed, forlornly, having finished my sandwich. I was still hungry.

"We should go to Medda's," Jack said, thoughtfully.

"What for?" I replied, grimacing at the idea of going and listening to Medda sing.

"To listen to Medda!" Race exclaimed, like it was obvious. I snorted, but said nothing.

"Tomorrow's Sunday. We could do it then. Irving Hall's not to busy on Sundays," Kid Blink continued. "We can get Spot, too." My stomach did a flip. I didn't really want to go to Medda's, but I _did_ want to meet Spot, just to see if he's nice, or if he's an ass.

The fact that he's a total hottie has nothing to do with it. Nope, not a thing.

Except, I can't see. But I can still imagine him, which is better than nothing, I suppose.

I sighed, heavily. I was sorely hoping I would regain sight soon. I was going to die if I didn't see my beautiful newsies soon.

"Uh, I hate to break it to you, but you suck," Dutchy informed me as I failed to sell _yet another_ paper. I rolled my eyes.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I replied, shortly. "Gve me a headline."

"Um…Let's see…Somebody knocked over a candlestick in the church. Set some woman's hem on fire." I nodded.

"PSYCHO GOES BERSEK! CRAZED MAN TRASHES THE CHURCH! FALLEN CANDLES ENGULF THE SANCTUARY! FIFTY PEOPLE DIE!" I yelled, waving a paper. Two people bought papers, but that was all.

I sighed. I had only sold ten papers, half of mine. "Let's hit Central Park," Dutchy suggested. I nodded, eager for a change in scenery. Hah. Yeah right. Dutchy took my hand, leading me through the crowd toward Central Park.

We hawked headlines for an hour, but the day was drawing to a close early, and people were retreating indoors.

"Come on, let's go home," Dutchy said, after we managed to sell the last of our papers.

"There you guys are!" Jack said, as we came in. "Hurry up!"

"Where are we going?" I asked, oh-so-brilliantly, might I add.

"Medda's, remember?" I groaned. I did _not_ want to go to Medda's. Forget Spot, after a crap day of selling, I just wanted to sleep.

"I'm gonna stay here, Cowboy," I said.

"Naw, c'mon. You gotta see Medda," Jack insisted.

"Right now, I can't see _anyone_," I said, testily.

"You should come, though."

"What's wrong?" someone said from behind me. I jumped, startled. It was Racetrack.

"Two-Bits doesn't want to go to Medda's," Jack answered.

"Why not?" Race demanded, sounding surprised. I sighed.

"Because I' tired, I've had a shitty day selling, ad I want to _sleep._" I felt someone grab my wrist and place a hand on my back, pushing me toward the door.

"Come on. Medda will cheer you up," Race said from next to my ear, and I shivered. _Be still, my heart,_ I thought, praying I wasn't blushing.

"I highly doubt that," I said, sardonically, but inside I was thinking, _At least the _trip_ to Medda's will be enjoyable._

Of course, I couldn't say _that _out loud.


	7. Ugh Medda

WOO! NEW CHAPTER!

Slightly: Oh, joy.

You know what, kiddo...You're fired.

Slightly: You can't fire a muse.

...-sigh-

"Ain't she gorgeous?" Racetrack sighed. I tossed back the rest of my soda, irritably.

"Well, gee, I can't really say, considering I'm _blind_," I snapped.

"Sorry, Bits, I forgot," he apologized, guiltily.

"I wish I was so lucky," I said snidely.

Although I couldn't see, Medda was undoubtedly prancing about in some frilly dress that clashed with her hair and waving around giant feather fans. There was no doubt that she could sing, but being in a room with a hundred or so half-drunk men and teenage boys while some Vaudeville used her feminine wiles on them was _not_ my idea of fun. I sighed and fished in my pocket for some change. Feeling the edges of the coins, I determined that I had twenty-five cents. I grimaced. I needed that for buying papers tomorrow. I put the money back in my pocket.

"Buy you a drink?" Instinctively, I looked up, seeing nothing.

"Depends. What's the catch?" I asked.

"Putting up with Spot Conlon's ego," Race interjected. I grinned. So, I was finally meeting the famous Spot Conlon.

"I think I can handle it," I said.

"Why doncha' come sit at my table?" Spot suggested, taking my hand. I stood up and he led me to another table. He called for a waiter and ordered two more sodas. "So, Jack told me you just showed up. Your accent's different. Where you from?"

"Around," I said, noncommittally.

"How does a blind girl get 'around'?" Spot asked skeptically.

"Wasn't always blind," I said quietly. That's right. Lay on the drama.

"Oh," he replied, and he left it at that, undoubtedly inferring some sort of accident or something. I didn't correct him. It was a lot easier to just let him think I had a freak accident than to tell him I went back in time and the time-traveling screwed up my senses. Go figure.

"Well, so how'd you end up with the boys from Manhattan?" he asked, breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence. I chuckled.

"Dutchy. Saved my life, no joke. Runaway carriage almost killed me," I said with a grin.

"Dutchy? No kidding? Who woulda' thought he was the heroic type," he mused.

"Go figure."

"Well, so, you wanna see Brooklyn sometime?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow.

"Or, well…hear it, I suppose…" he muttered. I chuckled.

"Sure, I'd like to hear Brooklyn," I said.

"Well, how 'bout tomorrow? You cross the bridge and I'll show you the best parts of Brooklyn money can't buy," he offered. I grinned.

"I'd like that."

_Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush!_

The audience seemed to be a little louder, so I said, "Is Medda done? Is the show over? Are we going home?" I pleaded.

"Yeah, she's done. Let's go find Race," Spot said, taking my hand. He led me over to Racetrack.

"Wasn't that great?" Race exclaimed. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah. I was overcome with joy," I said sarcastically. Racetrack ignored me. "Let's go home," I sighed. My eyes were heavy, I could barely keep my eyes open. And then I realized it didn't really matter, so I just shut them. "If I fall asleep," I mumbled, "don't abandon me in the middle of Manhattan."

"'Course not," Race chuckled. "I'll carry you home."

And then I fell asleep.

Gryffindor's Newsie: I feel your pain, Griffy. I am so lacking in updates, it's not even funny. But I promise I'll try harder!

Unknown-Dreams: Wow. That review was so...eloquent.

Nosilla: Yay for even more story progressions!

koodles4you: KOODLES! OMG I almost forgot about you! -pets- I looovee you!

Dreamless-Mermaid: Tell me about it. HOT NEWSIES! WOO! But actually, I can't even decide. I'd probably go insane if I couldn't say anything. But probably being mute would be better.

Swinn: YAHOO CAPS LOCK!


End file.
